The torches at the Black Tiger Gang's headquarters burned through the entire night.
When the first ray of dawn pierced the clouds and illuminated the wreckage strewn across the ground, the sky over Black Stone County had already changed.
Notices from the county office covered every street and alley: Zhao Hei Hu, leader of the Black Tiger Gang, had colluded with the Barbarians and been executed on the spot by the wise and valiant Constable Ji; the Barbarian spy Agula had also been put to death.
The people cheered and spread the news far and wide. The mountain that had weighed upon their heads for ten years had finally collapsed.
Meanwhile, in the warehouse behind the county office, Ji Ye stood before boxes piled as high as mountains.
They were the Black Tiger Gang's savings from ten years.
Gold and silver, jewels, land deeds, and most precious of all—three entire cartloads of medicinal herbs.
"Sir, everything has been counted."
Wang Meng's eyes were bloodshot, yet he was bursting with excitement. "Forty thousand taels in silver, five thousand taels in gold. The herbs include three hundred-year-old ginseng roots, deer antler, and countless tiger bones. There's also..."
Ji Ye looked at the boxes, a flicker of understanding passing through his eyes.
In his previous life, he had acted too late. Zhao Hei Hu had already traded away most of his fortune for grain, fodder, and weapons to curry favor with the Barbarians, leaving Ji Ye with only a pitiful three thousand taels of loose silver. This time, he had struck first. Those forty thousand taels, money Zhao Hei Hu had not yet spent to buy his life, had fallen into Ji Ye's hands with both principal and interest.
Wang Meng handed over a bloodstained ledger. "This is the list of Zhao Hei Hu's secret contacts in the prefectural city and Jiangnan."
Ji Ye accepted the ledger, flipped through it casually, and tucked it into his robe.
"Wang Meng."
Ji Ye turned and looked at the man who had been utterly loyal to him.
"Do you want to sit in the County Lieutenant's seat?"
Wang Meng froze, then immediately dropped to one knee. "I will rely entirely on your guidance, sir!"
"Good."
Ji Ye took a letter from his robes and placed it on the table. "This contains the irrefutable evidence of Zhao Hei Hu's treason, along with Agula's head. Take these, together with those forty thousand taels in silver, and deliver them to Zhou Dexing."
"F-Forty thousand taels? All of it?" Wang Meng's eyes went wide, his heart aching so badly it twitched.
"Money's a bastard. Spend it, and you can earn more."
Ji Ye's tone was calm. "This money is to buy you an official post. With it, Zhou Dexing won't just promote you—he'll worship you like his own father."
"Then what about you, sir...?"
"Me?"
Ji Ye smiled and pointed at the three cartloads of herbs and the five thousand taels of gold.
"I'm leaving."
"Leaving?" Wang Meng was thunderstruck. "Where are you going, sir? Now that the Black Tiger Gang has been eliminated, you're beneath one man and above ten thousand in Black Stone County. Why leave?"
Ji Ye walked to the window and pushed it open.
The north wind howled, sweeping snowflakes into the room.
"Because the wind has come."
Ji Ye looked north, his gaze seeming to pierce mountain range after mountain range and see the black tide about to sweep down upon them.
"Zhao Hei Hu is dead. Agula is dead. The Barbarians will not let this rest. Within a month at most, their army will press against the border."
"W-What?!" Wang Meng's face turned deathly pale. "Then... then what do we do? Defend the city?"
"We can't hold it."
Ji Ye shook his head. In his previous life, he had fought with every ounce of strength he possessed. He had even turned himself into neither man nor ghost, yet all he gained was a miserable victory—and in the end, one of his own had stabbed him in the back.
This life, he would not make the same mistake again.
"Wang Meng, listen carefully."
Ji Ye turned around, his expression becoming incomparably solemn.
"This month is your final chance. Use the County Lieutenant's authority to take away whatever grain and weapons you can. Bring every brother willing to follow you."
"Where to?"
"South. Go to Jiangnan, go to the Capital City, go anywhere you want, as long as you don't remain in the northern frontier."
"Then... the people of this city..." Wang Meng's voice trembled.
"They cannot be saved."
Ji Ye's voice was hard as iron. "Mercy cannot command an army. If you stay, there will only be one more corpse. If you leave, perhaps one day you can return and burn paper offerings for them."
Wang Meng fell silent.
He was a rough man, but he understood the reason behind it. Emotionally, though, abandoning the people of his hometown was truly...
"Sir, you are an extraordinary man." Wang Meng raised his head, hope in his eyes. "If you were to stay..."
"Even I cannot save them."
Ji Ye cut him off. "I am not strong enough yet."
He extended a hand and clenched it into a fist.
"If I want to turn the tables, if I refuse to be a pawn upon the chessboard, then I must leap beyond it. I must go higher and see a greater world."
"Only after becoming a dragon can one ride the clouds and command the rain."
"Trapped in the shallows, one is nothing but a loach."
Wang Meng looked at Ji Ye for a long while before heavily knocking his head against the ground.
"I understand. I will heed your teachings, sir."
An hour later.
An inconspicuous carriage left through Black Stone County's southern gate.
A taciturn old soldier drove the carriage, while its compartment was packed with medicinal herbs and gold.
Ji Ye sat inside, holding a copy of Tiger Roar Golden Bell Shield that had been found in Zhao Hei Hu's secret chamber.
The wheels rumbled over the snow, creaking as they went.
Ji Ye lifted the curtain and took one final look at the dusty county town behind him.
On the city wall, Wang Meng stood there, watching from afar.
"Farewell, Black Stone County."
Ji Ye lowered the curtain and closed his eyes.
"Farewell, Qin Wuji."
"When I return, the rules of this world will need changing."
[Golden Years, Martial Arts Through Divinity]
Spring of the first year.
Qing Province, in the heartland of Great Liang.
A carriage slowly traveled down the official road. Inside, the scent of medicine was so rich it seemed impossible to disperse.
Bare-chested, Ji Ye sat cross-legged in a medicinal bath.
His skin no longer bore that sickly pallor. Instead, it shone with a bronze luster. The lines of his muscles flowed like water, yet held explosive strength.
Martial Arts Through Divinity was fully activated.
He was deducing Tiger Roar Golden Bell Shield.
The originally crude hard-style martial art was broken down in his mind into countless tiny components. Using his ability to perceive the minute, he removed the flaws that damaged the meridians and incorporated Daoist breathing methods.
"Inhale—exhale—"
With each breath, the skin over his body actually rippled like water.
Iron Skin had reached major completion.
That year, news arrived from the north. Barbarian iron cavalry broke through Black Stone County and slaughtered the city for three days. The defending general, Wang Meng, had vanished without a trace.
When Ji Ye heard the news, he merely paused with his chopsticks in hand, remained silent for three breaths, then continued eating.
That meal, he ate an extra bowl of meat.
Winter of the first year.
At the foot of Mount Shaoshi in Central Province.
Ji Ye adopted the alias "Ye Wen" and visited martial arts schools throughout the land as a traveling scholar.
He did not seek a master.
He sought only sparring matches.
"My thanks."
Ji Ye withdrew his finger. Opposite him, the master of a Through-Arm Fist school, known as Iron Arms, clutched his dislocated shoulder with a face full of horror.
One move.
No matter the opponent's sect or techniques, beneath Ji Ye's Martial Dao Heavenly Eye, all were riddled with openings.
He was like a sponge, madly absorbing the strengths of every school.
The force-generation techniques of Through-Arm Fist, the footwork of Bagua Palm, the force-dissipating methods of Tai Chi...
These martial arts, originally incompatible with one another, were forcibly dismantled and fused within him, becoming nourishment for his martial path.
That year, the Barbarian army drove straight south, breaking through three northern frontier provinces in succession. The Imperial Court was shaken and gathered troops from across the realm to answer the emperor's call.
Autumn of the second year.
The imperial capital of Great Liang, Capital City.
Autumn always came early to the Capital City.
The fires of war from the north had not reached this place, but the wind already carried the scent of blood. Yet the red sleeves fluttering throughout the city and its glittering towers of gold and powder concealed that scent completely.
Rain-Listening Alley, south of the city.
An inconspicuous little courtyard, a half-withered parasol tree, and one man.
Two years.
Seven hundred and thirty days and nights.
The sickly scholar who had coughed blood in Black Stone County was gone. In his place stood a sword sheathed in its scabbard.
Ji Ye stood beneath the tree, tall and lean, his green robes loose and unrestrained. He had grown taller, his shoulders broader. Those eyes that had once always carried a trace of sickly gloom were now as deep as ancient wells—without a ripple, yet unfathomable.
He held a sword.
An iron sword.
A common item costing fifty copper coins at a roadside smithy. Burrs that had not been ground smooth still remained on its blade.
Yet in his hand, this piece of scrap iron was colder than any famed sword.
"Hum."
He drew his sword.
There was no stance, no variation, not even the sound of wind.
There was only a flash.
A lingering gleam so swift that even light and shadow could not catch it.
A withered yellow parasol leaf happened to drift down, and the sword tip passed through it.
The leaf did not shatter, nor did it fly away. It continued to sway as it fell to the ground.
One breath.
Two breaths.
Three breaths.
"Crack."
The fallen leaf suddenly split neatly down the middle, its cut as smooth as a mirror, as though it had been born in two halves.
"Organ Tempering..."
Ji Ye sheathed his sword and let out a long breath.
The breath condensed without dispersing, like a white snake flicking its tongue, lingering in the air for a long time.
He slowly raised his right hand, spread his five fingers, then abruptly clenched them.
"Boom—"
It was not the explosion of air, but a muffled rumble seemingly from the depths of the earth.
It was the sound produced as his organs vibrated at extreme frequency in an instant—Tiger-Leopard Thunderous Sound.
An invisible force burst outward from the center of his fist. The fallen leaves by his feet instantly turned to powder and rose upon the autumn wind like a golden mist.
This was the Myriad Forms Furnace Body.
Over two years, he had traveled throughout Great Liang, visited one hundred and eight martial arts schools, stolen techniques, sparred, and fused them together.
He had not cultivated any single school's divine art.
He had forged himself into a furnace.
Melting the fires of ten thousand schools, forging my body into adamant.
His bones were five times denser than those of an ordinary man, his muscle fibers twisted together like steel wire, and his organs were tough enough to endure direct blasts of Internal Strength.
He was no longer the meat shield who needed Dead Flesh Armor to take blows.
He was a precise killing machine. A monster with bones as hard as steel, organs like thunder, and techniques that had reached divinity.
Ji Ye raised his head, his gaze passing through layer upon layer of rooftops before settling deep within the resplendent imperial palace.
There lay the Great Liang royal family's final foundation—Supreme Induction Chapter.
It was the key to entering the Grandmaster realm.
It was also something he had to obtain in this life.
"Chaotic times are approaching."
Ji Ye extended a finger and lightly flicked the iron sword in his hand.
The blade rang softly, like a dragon's cry, like a ghost's wail.
"Qin Wuji, you should have arrived by now as well, shouldn't you?"
"This time, my sword is fast."
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